Voyage Through the Multiverse
by Petrokovia
Summary: When strange rifts appear across the multiverse, a superhuman spec-ops team, a magic-wielding knight, a pair of mercenaries, a spider, and the champions of Johto find themselves as the crew for a futuristic battleship tasked with stopping a series of villains from threatening not only their own worlds, but eventually the multiverse at large. Based loosely on the VTTM roleplay on NS


**Wilfre Arc**

Albion Base, Kuiper Operating Zone, Terran Republic

"Velpos contacts, twenty eight warships. They've been pulled out of FTL by the gravity wells, just as planned, sir."

Admiral Isaac Markov stood at the wartable of the famed _Dreadnaught Hyperion_ , the flagship of the Terran Republic's space fleet. At the edge of Terran space, the revived fleet of the Order of Andromeda had returned, greater in number, to seek revenge for those fallen in a previous war.

The young admiral looked over to the lead velpos operator, and nodded.

"Confirm ship origins?"

The man looked at the screen of the Velpos, noting the position of the ships, and their classes.

"They are from Andromeda, sir." the man stated, quickly, with only a hint of worry.

The admiral turned to the holographic wartable, picking up a tethered handset. However, he didn't hold the phone to his mouth yet.

"Map them." he stated, sternly.

The wartable projected a 3-dimensional model of the space several light-seconds in all directions away from the _Hyperion_ , showing the 28 ships; A total of 3 dreadnaughts, 5 battlecarriers, 4 battleships, 6 cruisers, 5 destroyers, and 5 logistics ships of various classes.

The hologram then plotted the fleet the admiral had at his disposal; the _Hyperion_ , 2 battlecarriers, 2 battleships, 3 cruisers, 2 destroyers, 2 minelayers, 1 multi-purpose radio ship, and 1 gravity well unit mothership, for a total of 14 ships.

"Sir, the Andromedans are launching fighters. So far, 100... 200... 250 fighters detected." spoke the Velpos officer.

Markov nodded in acknowledgement, holding the handset to his mouth.

"All hands, battlestations. Set Condition One throughout the ship."

An alarm let out a single, short blare, and the lights in the bridge switched to a red tint. The main door to the bridge closed, sealing the command center. Markov gave orders to the fleet, with focus and determination. The general darkness of the room gave an eerie, commanding feel to the glowing displays of the various computers.

"Launch all fighters. Prioritize defense of the resupply depot as it passes by. All batteries focus on their ships closest to orbit; I want to try to divert their forces from the base... They're likely to try to flank us. Minelayers _Pluto I_ and _Pluto II_ , set identification-dependent mines along our ventral and starboard sides."

Markov's second in command, a grizzled Vice Admiral named William Sargsyan, glanced over to Markov, with a skeptical look.

"That'll bring them over the majority of our main guns. I get what you're trying to do, but wouldn't that limit our fleet's movement?"

Markov cracked a smile, pressing a button on one of the side panels of the wartable. The battlefield hologram was updated, with a number of red dots in a grid-like pattern, spread across the field.

"Until recently, we've only been able to scatter these FTL-stopping gravity wells, and activate or deactivate them all at once. However, by jury-rigging transponders tuned to different frequencies to each unit, and relaying the activation signal from the gravity well mothership through the multipurpose radio ship and tuning it to different frequencies, we can isolate different units. Our radio ship isn't advanced enough to process individual signals to each single unit, but we can send signals to groups of gravwell projectors, to create 'FTL Dead Zones'." the admiral explained, taking some limited pride in his plan. "That way, we can deactivate the projectors where our ships are, while keeping the Andromedans from accessing their FTL capabilities."

Sargsyan nodded along, a little less skeptical.

"Huh... Wouldn't they be able to tell which areas were active or not based on which radio signals are being produced?"

"Yes," Markov admitted. "But, I thought about that... There are units which overlap, and some occupy the same space. That way, we can use several different frequencies to activate the same areas; As long as we keep up the pressure, they should find it difficult to determine which frequencies go to which areas of the field. In addition, the radio ship has several 'dud' channels that can be used as decoy frequencies. That should make it even more difficult. The overlapping fields will also allow us more precise control of what areas are FTL-dead."

The vice admiral nodded approvingly, convinced.

"Nothing's ever perfect, but this seems pretty fool-proof."

Markov nodded, but his expression turned slightly sour.

"Our current positioning is pretty obvious, though..."

William rested his hands on the wartable; the faintly glowing light on its surface made the table warm. An oddly inviting sensation, for something designed for war and violence.

The vice admiral looked down at his hands, then up to the holographic map.

"...Is that why you only sent fighters to the port side of the fleet?"

Admiral Markov nodded.

"They know that the resupply depot will be passing by, and that it's incapable of avoiding the battlefield, since it's a large geostationary complex. Either they go for the easy route over the less defended area over top of our ships, or they try to gun through the fighter screen anyway... I'm expecting them to call the former's bluff, and try the latter. Just as they get within range of the fighters, I want the _Hyperion_ and the rear group to make an FTL jump just behind our fighter screen, placing us between the enemy and our depot."

The holographic battlefield updated with the hypothetical placements of the ships in Markov's scenario, showing the _Hyperion_ and the rear detachment facing down the Andromedan fleet, with the rest of the Terran fleet still in their current position, now behind the majority of the Andromedans.

Sargsyan chuckled.

"So either they're forced to maneuver past the bulk of our heavy firepower, or they're forced into being flanked."

Suddenly, the command center shook as the _Hyperion_ was struck by a heavy barrage of lasers. Another alarm rang out through the bridge. However, this one was different than any alarm normally heard in the command center. This was a repetitive, high-pitched beeping.

"Captain, it's four forty-five." the Velpos officer stated, matter-of-factly.

"What-?" Markov looked over to the officer, boggled.

* * *

Reality

A tall, athletic, American man in his early twenties blinked, shaking his head. He moved the cursor of his laptop over to the menu button of the game he was playing, pausing it. Glancing across his desk, he found the beeping timer, and pressed the off button.

The man sighed, looking at the paused menu screen of _Solar Commander 3: Andromeda's Revenge_. Looking to the bottom right of the computer screen, the clock read _4:45 AM_. He glanced around his bedroom, the only illumination coming from the screen of his laptop. Despite this, he was able to spot his uniform and equipment very easily, hanging in a closet across the room.

Setting his headphones aside, the man stood up, and went through his usual morning routine. After his shower, he put on his uniform, navy blue and reminiscent of the uniform of a police officer. Over top of his uniform, he wore a khaki trench coat and a black fedora.

Stepping out of his apartment, the man locked his door, and made his way out of the lobby and into the city outside. Despite the similarities to cities back home, and the amount of time he had spent stationed in Japan, certain aspects of Tokyo still amused the man. The lack of waste bins or litter was the most pleasant; certainly an improvement upon Philadelphia and its suburbs.

The man made his way to Shinjuku Station, picking up a copy of _The Japan Times_ along the way. He boarded the Yamanote Line, moving to the side of the subway car in an attempt to avoid the bulk of the crowd.

 _That third rail they proposed last year should be done by 2020..._ the man thought to himself, silently wishing that the train wasn't so crowded. _I wonder if it'd be worth it to bum a ride off Marguerite 'til then..._

For the most part, this had become routine, but on a slow, grey day like this, the annoyance of a crowded subway seemed much more potent. The American decided to think about his work, instead.

 _Teru's busy with the Shibuya Crossing case, so he won't be in this week... I'll have to catch him up next Wednesday... I doubt there'll really be a whole lot to tell, though..._ the man lamented. _We've had a few small breakthroughs in finding A, but overall things have gone pretty cold... What are we doing wrong?_

After some time, the subway stopped, and the man slowly made his way out of the station. There was some overcast and mild humidity, but overall it was calm; It was a day that felt like time slowed down. Birds chirped on occasion, but other than that the only sounds were the soft murmur of traffic and pedestrians.

The man eventually found himself at the entrance to a large military base. A large sign in front of the gate read "International Military and Police Defense Organization - Tokyo Headquarters," below some Japanese text, saying the exact same thing.

Like the rest of the city, the base seemed oddly quiet; There were only a few officers standing watch at the main gate. Upon seeing the trenchcoat-clad man approaching, one of the guards walked several feet forward from the gatehouse to meet him, approaching with a quick stride.

The guard greeted the man in a friendly, yet professional tone.

"Tadayoshi, sir! How was your weekend?"

"Eh, the usual." the man responded, in a somewhat bored tone. "Things have slowed down quite a bit since, uh... Since Agent A left."

"Oh, right..." the guard's expression hardened as he took Tadayoshi's ID and looked at his badge.

The guard gave Tadayoshi's ID back, and signaled for the gate to open. Tadayoshi made a long walk into the main building on the base. He made his way through the building, mostly ignoring those he passed as they scurried around, already preoccupied, until he entered his office. It was a large room with a central table, a water cooler, several white boards with notes scribbled hastily on them, and cork boards with various pictures and documents pinned to them; In the center of one was a picture of another, rather attractive American man in a similar IMPDO uniform as Tadayoshi's, with the text "Marcus Erskine - Agent A" typed below it.

Along the wall to Tadayoshi's left, there were five doors, each one leading to a personal office with a desk and computer. One of them was taped off at the moment, whereas three of them had lights on inside.

As if sensing Tadayoshi's presence, the three doors opened, and from them came three people, dressed in similar IMDPO uniforms. The first to greet him was a short woman with shoulder-length black hair. She seemed happy at Tadayoshi's arrival.

"Bonjour, Dan! How was your weekend?" she asked cheerfully, in a rather thick French accent.

Another American male, of rather average appearance, stood in the doorway to the fourth office. He leaned against the wall just outside of his office, as the other two approached the center table.

"The usual?" he interjected, with a slight sarcastic tone. He tossed a can of soda to the fourth member of the group, an African American man named Terrell Anthony.

"Yeah, nothing much." Tadayoshi dismissed, heading towards his office.

Terrell opened the soda he was given, setting it aside without drinking it. As he sank into his chair, he looked over to Tadayoshi.

"So Cap-Two, Did you have any breakthroughs about where he might be?"

The man spun around to address his subordinate, nodding.

"Well," Tadayoshi began, perking up slightly. "The Tokyo PD got wind of some sketchy activity up North. Apparently, two known former Yakuza members were killed. One of them was an amplificata."

The soda-tosser, Chase Tyrane, cocked his head to the side slightly out of curiosity.

"You think Marcus offed them?"

"Rumor has it they were reaching out to police." Tadayoshi nodded, casually gesturing to Chase's chair, inviting him to sit. Chase strolled up to his chair, and barely pulled it back from the table before the next question came, this time from Marguerite.

"So, we will be reviewing information gathered by the Tokyo Police at the scene, I assume?"

"Precisely... I've got some things I need to straighten out in my office first, then we can head out." Tadayoshi said, making his way through the door to his office.

The other three waited around the table for a few minutes, the silence of the office taking over. However, soon there was a loud crack and bright flashes of light from Tadayoshi's office, and gusts of wind shattered the glass door and blew papers and trinkets from the man's desk around. His computer monitor was thrown from the desk, embedding itself in the wall.

The three sprung up from their seats, rushing into the office.

"Merde! Dan, are you-?"

Marguerite stopped in her tracks, as she found the office empty; Tadayoshi was nowhere to be found. Chase and Terrell both peered over her, looking in dismay into the office.

"The fuck?" was the only thing that could come out of Chase's mouth, as he was at a loss for words.

Terrell took a step into the office, in a futile attempt to get a better view of the room.

"Where'd he go?" he asked, both worried and utterly confused. "What was that sound? The hell is going on?"

After a brief moment, Marguerite turned around. Her expression changed subtly, hopeful yet unsure.

"We should get the Commissioner. He might know what to do..."

* * *

Location Unknown

Suddenly, Tadayoshi had the wind knocked out of him, his lungs were on fire, he could barely move, and he had no idea which way was "up."

After a few seconds of random, desperate flailing and disorientation, he felt his hand break free of wherever he was; He kicked his legs, finding that he was in fact underwater.

The man surfaced, coughing vigorously, expelling saltwater from his lungs. No matter the amount of coughing, it felt like someone was burning his lungs from the inside. After what felt like an eternity, Tadayoshi felt cool sea air hit his lungs, as his lungs finally expelled the water, and returned to normal.

Tadayoshi felt his heart racing, and his entire body seemed to nervously shake with adrenaline, and he gasped for air, trying to catch his breath.

 _Jesus fucking Christ..._ was the only thing going through his head at the moment, repeating over and over, as eventually he began saying it aloud.

He looked around, as wave after wave calmly passed by him, obscuring his vision of the horizon. The ocean didn't seem to care that he was there; the scenery around him was oddly calm, which helped Tadayoshi regain his composure. He continued looking around, not seeing land anywhere around him.

"Oh, shit..." the man cursed aloud, in despair. "Fuck, where the hell am I?"

 _I can't just swim out in one direction... If I wind up going further out to sea I'm dead... Who knows if I'm even close enough to land to swim there anyway?_

Tadayoshi thought for a moment. He took off his trench coat, and spread it out so it would float on top of the water. He saw his hat drift by, and placed it with his coat.

 _Nevermind exhaustion or starvation, I need to find a way out of the water, or I'll die of exposure..._ he thought, forcing himself to come up with a survival plan.

Two small metal boxes extended from Tadayoshi's belt.

"If I could fly out-"

The man thought for a moment.

 _Well, no shit..._ Tadayoshi mentally kicked himself. _Flight jets aren't gonna work underwater. Next idea...?_

Tadayoshi racked his brain, but in the moment couldn't come up with anyway to get out of the water; looking around, there wasn't any driftwood or scraps of any kind. That's when he saw a large ship approaching quickly to his right. The man took an orange emergency whistle from his utility belt, and held it in his mouth, blowing frantically and trying his best to wave at the ship.

The ship seemed to notice him, and turned to approach, and it was moving fast. _Very_ fast. Faster than any ship the man had ever seen, and faster than he thought was even possible for a ship of that size. As the ship approached, he noticed strange purple markings on its hull, and that the ship was bristling with guns of various caliber. A crane arm swung out, and lowered its cable to Tadayoshi, who gripped it maybe a bit too tightly.

Tadayoshi was hoisted onto the deck, where he laid, sprawled out on his back. If he hadn't just almost drowned, the man probably would be more open to questioning why he was picked up by a strange, glowing battleship, but for now he was just glad to be on something dry and solid. The wooden deck seemed much more comforting now than he would have imagined.

After some time, Tadayoshi stood up, noticing that the purple markings went across the deck as well. He looked directly in front of him, where a rather attractive blonde woman in her mid-twenties stood. She was wearing a purple blouse and khaki shorts; Not exactly the attire that one would expect of a sailor. However, aside from this woman, the ship seemed deserted; Through the windows, Tadayoshi saw that even the bridge didn't have any activity, and had no lights on.

Tadayoshi approached the woman, rather gratefully, and extended his hand.

"Hey, thanks for picking me up! I'm guessing that you're the captain?"

The woman looked at the man in front of her curiously.

"Who are you?" she simply responded.

* * *

 **Masked Man Arc**

Unknown Location, Johto

A tall, imposing figure in a black cloak, a white mask, and long, flowing white hair, stood in the doorway of a dimly lit room. The room was rather small, made of stone, with a small wooden desk, a couple bookshelves, and a large floor standing radio, likely dated from the 1940's.

The Masked Man seemed to glide across the floor, as if hovering, as he approached the radio. He pressed a series of buttons, then turned a knob, and a part of the floor in the center of the room opened up, revealing a stairway to a secret room below.

The man levitated down the stairs, down a brightly lit hallway, up to two guards; The two men were wearing all-black uniforms with a silver "R" on the chest, and masks similar to the one the man in the cloak wore.

"Sir!" both men shouted, in unison. They snapped to attention, giving a salute.

The Masked Man ignored the men, staring at a large, metal door behind them. It stood around ten feet tall and wide. Without averting his gaze, the Masked Man spoke, with a deep, metallic voice.

"It is ready?"

The guard on the left nodded.

"Yes, sir!"

The giant metal doors creaked open, their motors straining against their weight.

The Masked Man glided through the gap in the doors; The room inside was comprised of various strange electronics and machinery, with a number of men in labcoats doing various experiments. Most of the scientists paid no mind to the Masked Man, as he approached the back of the room, where a small briefcase sat on a metal table.

The man hastily opened the briefcase. Inside was a tablet with a collapsible antenna on one side, and a number of buttons on the bottom half, below the screen.

The Masked Man chuckled in amusement, as he pulled out the tablet.

"Finally... With this, ultimate power will soon enough be within my grasp."

* * *

Mt. Silver, Johto

A young adult in a red and white hoodie and yellow shorts stood, looking off the edge of a cliff. From how high up he was on the mountain, he could see miles and miles of mountainous terrain, which gradually faded to hills, then to rolling plains. As the landscape flattened out, it seemed to follow a gradient, from gray and brown rock to green fields. The sky was light blue, with thin white clouds dotting the sky.

Next to the young man, was what appeared to be a giant honey badger, standing around six feet tall. He had course blue fur on his back, but his front was coated in softer cream-colored fur. In a line along the back of his neck were a series of circular patches of red fur.

The badger was the first to speak, with a deep, but warm voice.

"Johto... Huh. Y'know, no matter how many times we come up Mt. Silver, seeing it from this angle can't get old."

The young man turned to his badger friend, nodding with a smile.

"Yeah, it's breathtaking."

The badger squinted, trying to see out into the distance. Even despite the poor long-range eyesight his species was known for, the view outward was very clear.

"Heh. If we had a good telescope, I bet we could find our house from here."

The two stared at the landscape for some time, before continuing on their journey, walking up the rocky path.

"We should reach our clearing pretty soon, if we get a move on." the young man-simply known as Gold-remarked.

The badger seemed to reach into his fur, and pulled out a large paper map. The two walked for some time, as the badger-a fire-type Pokemon called Typhlosion-continued reading various facts and warnings off of the back of the map.

"Huh. Says here Graveler are becoming more active, so we should watch out for rock slides..." Ty read, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Maybe we should use the hard-top structure for the tent." Gold thought aloud.

As the two approached a large clearing in the mountain, the sky seemed to darken. Ty's ears twitched, causing him to look up from the map.

"Woah. Hey, bro, how long have we been walking for?" Ty asked, concerned.

"Uh..." Gold checked a watch-like device attached to his left sleeve. "A couple hours or so."

Gold looked up to the sky, noticing that it was getting uncharacteristically dark.

"Uh... Good timing, though... At least we can set up camp..." he said, feeling a strange mix of worry and relief.

"Yeah, let's hurry..."

Soon enough, the two had set up their tent; the whole ensemble was stored in a pokeball, a small sphere roughly the size of a baseball that stored physical matter in a form of pocket dimension. As the pokeball stored items in the exact state they were put in, and could shrink to around the size of a golf ball, this allowed the entire tent, with furnishings, to be stored already assembled, in a very compact space. The only thing Gold and Ty needed to do was stake it to the ground, which took all of two minutes.

The tent was rather large, with a hard, flat top, and thick fabric sides. The tent had metal poles going diagonally from the ceiling to the floor as part of the support structure; It was large enough to house two sleeping bags side-by-side, Gold's backpack, a tiny folding desk, a short bookshelf (which was filled with videogames), a small CRT-type television atop another table, a camp cooler, and two bean bag chairs. Next to the desk with the television, was a small solar-charged generator, which powered everything in the tent.

The two entered the tent, and before Gold could even finish zipping the entrance shut, the sound of hail hitting the roof of their tent could be heard. The sound of the hail and wind made for an oddly comforting contrast with the warmly lit interior of the tent.

The man and badger went to the far left corner of the tent, sitting down on a pair of large bean bags. Ty reached into the cooler on his left and pulled out a soda, cracking it open.

"Kinda freakish weather today, huh?" Gold remarked, plugging two controllers into the GameCube in front of them; both of the controllers were custom painted, though it was clearly an amateurish job.

"Yeah... Something tells me this isn't a normal storm, though..." Ty answered, a cautious air to his voice. "I feel like something fucking weird is about to happen."

On cue, there was a bright flash of light from outside of the tent, and a deafening crack. Ty flinched, almost crushing the half-empty soda can in his hand.

"Ow, Jesus H! The hell was that?" Gold shouted out in shock, barely able to hear himself speak over the ringing in his ears.

"Lightning!?" Ty asked, equally loud. His ears were laid backwards, flat against his head, as if pinned.

Gold unzipped the door to the tent, and carefully looked around, trying to avoid being pelted by the golf ball sized chunks of ice coming from the dark skies above. After scanning the surrounding area, he spotted what looked like a small person, stumbling around, dazed.

"Yo, Ty! There's a person out there!"

As Ty came up beside Gold, the two could see the figure turning around, sensing their presence. As the figure turned, it became clear by the silhouette that the creature had three pairs of arms.

Chills ran down Gold and Ty's backs, as they both recoiled into their tent slightly. The five small, circular, red patches on the back of Ty's neck began to glow and heat up, as he moved to a forward crouching position. His brow furrowed and his eyes widened, as all of his fur began standing on end.

The figure came ever closer, and it was only now that the light caught it, giving them a clear view of what they were looking at. What stood before them was a small woman with six arms, five eyes, and small fangs. Her black hair was cut in a short bob, with two small tufts of hair put into twin tails on either side. Her choice in clothing seemed rather dated, with a blouse and bloomers in varying shades of maroon, and black thigh-high boots.

The strange woman seemed to be struggling with the hail, trying to swat at it; Her efforts were futile, as she was struck continuously by balls of ice.

The red spots on Ty cooled down, returning to normal. He and Gold turned to each other, with expressions of utter confusion.

"...Well, I think it's safe to say that's not a Pokemon. Or a human..." Ty stated, still trying to mentally sort what he was seeing.

"C'mon." Gold said with a grunt, standing to his feet, ducking slightly due to the low roof of the tent. "We can't just leave her out there."

"Uh... Right." Ty agreed, though somewhat apprehensively.

The two rushed out of their tent; The spider girl took a few steps back, clearly distrusting of the two.

"Yo, do you wanna get outta this -Ow!- fucking hail or not!?" Ty shouted, raising his arms above his head. He curled forward a bit, his arms only just long enough to wrap around his head.

The woman seemed to pause for a moment, before briskly walking into the tent. Gold and Ty followed, closing the tent behind them.

"Ugh." Gold moaned, collapsing into one of the bean bags, and rubbing his head.

The man turned to the newly rescued girl. She was sitting, fetal position, in the far right corner of the tent, eyeing up the man and the giant badger. Now that she was in clear light, she looked far less menacing, and actually kind of cute.

Ty sat in the bean bag next to Gold, unwrapping the cord to a black and purple custom painted GameCube controller.

"Yo, so, uh... What's your name?" he asked, glancing towards the small figure.

The spider girl scanned the tent with her eyes, before looking at the two people that saved her. She spoke clearly, but somewhat quietly.

"Muffet... What is your name?"

"I'm Ty. This is Gold. We're the Johto Region's current champs, almost nine years running." Ty explained, nonchalantly. It was as if he expected Muffet to already have heard of him and Gold.

Muffet seemed to hug her legs a little less tightly, smiling.

"Ahuhuhu~" She laughed, amused. "Champions of what?"

Gold and Ty turned their full attention to Muffet, bewildered.

"Uh... Pokemon battling. Almost every major region has a national league by now..." Gold explained.

"Yeah. We're basically sports icons!" Ty mentioned, pridefully.

"Oh... I have no idea what you're talking about, but it sounds interesting." Muffet admitted. She slowly stood and gave a small curtsy; standing up, it became apparent how short she was. "Thank you for saving me, dearies."

"Uh... Don't mention it." Ty replied, shooting Gold a confused look.

Gold turned the GameCube on, and offered a folding chair to Muffet.

"Hey, we were about to play some Smash Bros. Wanna join?"

"A video game?" Muffet asked, looking at the television screen curiously. "I suppose."

As Muffet sat in the small chair, Gold handed her a cheap-looking red knockoff controller. Where the Nintendo logo normally would have been, Gold had at some point used a sharpie to draw a small cartoonish picture of poop, with the words "THE SHITTY BOI" written above it.

Muffet sighed, looking at the crude controller. She had been taken to a strange world, and thrust into the middle of a storm with a couple of strangers. The Shitty Boi seemed to speak to her soul in this moment.

"...Thanks..." she said, somewhat dejectedly.

"Sorry, it's the only other controller we've got with us. We keep it as a spare." Gold said, apologetically.


End file.
